


Petey and Wade go green; in which the environment is sacrificed in the face of a vaguely Irish holiday

by isaDanCurtisproduction



Series: Spideypool Holidares you to celebrate [5]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Green Beer, Holidays, Humor, M/M, St. Patrick's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 15:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10337866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaDanCurtisproduction/pseuds/isaDanCurtisproduction
Summary: Wade tries to get Peter into the holiday spirit, but he doesn't really need to try that hard.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if they're are any errors. The wifi at my house is down so I'm posting this on my tablet somewhere with free wifi, but it's hard to type on this thing. Please let me know if you find anything wrong. And happy St. Patrick's day!

"You can't go out like _that_ ," Wade gasped out dramatically as Peter passed him on his way to their apartment window.

"I told you I wouldn't be out all night," Peter chided, running a hand down the front of his Spidey suit, "but I am going out. You can't stop me."

Wade sighed in a put-upon manner. "No, Baby Boy. I meant that you're not wearing any green."

Peter glanced down at his suit, a stained glass window of red and blue. "Well, no," he said, because, well, no, he wasn't.

Wade scoffed. "You can't go out without wearing any green, Petey. It's St. Paddy's Day! Green is the thing. You've got to wear _something_."

Peter sighed and ran a hand down his face. "And what do you propose I wear over my suit exactly?"

From behind Wade's back he pulled a headband with two felt shamrocks on springs that bobbled ominously.

"No," Peter stated firmly.

"Awww! But why? They look so cute!"

"I want the bad guys to take me seriously," Peter stated, quite calmly, "not fall to the ground 'cause they're laughing so hard."

Wade pouted but only for a second before tossing the headband away from him and pulling out emerald-colored water wings.

"Definitely not, Wade. I'm not swinging around New York with kiddie floatations devices strapped to my arms."

"Fine," Wade huffed, "is this hipster enough for you?"

He dropped the floats and pulled from behind him soft green infinity scarf with four-leaf clovers in a darker green so similar in shade they were almost indistinguishable.

Peter took the scarf and looped it twice over his head. "This is acceptable, I suppose."

"Good," Wade said, "then I get these." Peter looked up to see the bobbing shamrock-headband on his head and the water wings wrapped around his fore arms where they'd evidently gotten stuck before reaching his upper arms.

Peter couldn't help but smile. "You look good."

"I know," Wade said. "I look _fabulous_."

Peter laughed, pulled on his mask, stepped out the window and was gone into the night, his scarf whipping behind him like a cape.

 

A few hours later, and in fact, also a few hours earlier than he expected, Peter climbed back through the window, a cardboard box beneath one arm. Wade was splayed on the ground on his front in the middle of the living room, game pieces from Parcheesi, Sorry, and Apples to Apples scattered, cannibalized, and put back together into one single Frankenstein of a board game. He was currently playing with the herd of water buffalo, trying to make them scale a castle he'd built out of the Apples to Apples green deck.

"Peter!" Wade screeched, jumping up and accidentally kicking over the castle and burying, and probably killing, the herd of Water buffalo. "You're back early! Good. Now we can try and get through a whole game of Applecheesi to Sorry!"

Peter collapsed on the couch instead of folding himself down on the ground next to the board games. He pulled off his mask and flung it behind him before settling the box on his knees and pulling out two styrofoam cups with lids and straws.

"I swear, this is the only day of the year that I can be forgiven for using styrofoam, the environment's most easily defeated, and yet somehow most prevalent, enemy. Here Wade, take one, they're cold. My fingers are turning blue."

Peter passed one of the cups to Wade who took a single sip from the straw and shrieked in delight. "A Shamrock shake! Babe, you do love me!" He flopped onto the couch beside Peter and curled up into him.

"Of course I love you," Peter said, "I waited in line in the snow for these environmental disasters and milkshake frauds. This suit isn't exactly insulated, you know," Peter said. "I was freezing my tuchus off out there." He levered Wade off of his side long enough for him to slip from beneath his boyfriend, set the cardboard box down, and shuffle into the bedroom.

"What else is in the box?" Wade called, and rolled off the couch enough to peer into the box. There was a giant thermos, a couple of Tupperware containers, a bowl sealed with tin foil, and two Chinese take-out containers.

"Why don't you look for yourself?" Peter called from the bedroom.

Wade's fingers, which had been reaching for the bowl, immediately retreated. "Why?" He asked suspiciously. "Is there something bad in there? You trying to trick me, Honey Bunches of Oats?"

"Would I ever do that?" Peter asked, sickly sweet, and then padded back into the room, wearing a well-worn and old pair of grey sweatpants that he'd gotten before his last growth spurt and so came up to mid-calf, a black t-shirt worn soft in old age and so faded the original graphic was nearly illegible, and the scarf Wade had given him.

Wade fluttered his eyelashes at Peter. "I don't trust you when you're not trying to keep me away from your things."

"But I _was_ trying to keep you away from my things. And it worked."

Wade looked at Peter with an expression of absolute betrayal. "Did you just reverse psycholigize me?"

"You know it! Now drink your sham-shake. We've got a lot of munchies to go through." He pulled out the Tupperware container and opened it to reveal sugar cookies cut into the shape of leprechauns, and covered in green sprinkles.

Wade squealed and stole four. "Are these all food? How did you get these?" He shoved all four cookies into his mouth at the same time.

"Well, there just weren't that many bad guys out tonight. Not even low-key ones. I mean, I caught a guy trying to jimmy into a jewelry store but I pinched him 'cause he wasn't wearing green and he pouted and stomped away. Complained no one was taking him seriously just 'cause he wasn't Irish. Well I'm not exactly Irish either, but I still wore green, so I'm not sure exactly what he thought he was talking about." Peter pulled out the bowl and tore off the tin foil to reveal green scrambled eggs.

"Please tell me those were dyed," Wade begged, "and haven't just expired."

"They're fine. It's just food coloring, and there's green ham beneath the eggs."

Wade gasped. "Doctor Seuss? You are my absolute favorite, Petey-Pie!" He shoveled some eggs into his mouth as well, forgoing utensils and just using his fingers. Peter shook his head in mock disgust.

"So I couldn't find even a jay-walker to rope up and leave for the police," Peter continued, as if he'd never been interrupted. "Well, I mean, actually lots of people were jaywalking. It was party central every where I looked. I guess St. Patrick's is a common excuse to get drunk. Who'd a thunk it?"

"I know you're being sarcastic, Baby Boy," Wade said around a mouthful of milkshake, "but you're still hurting me right now."

"Oh shut up and drink your badly dyed vanilla milkshake."

Wade brought a hand to his chest and gasped melodramatically. "How dare you! This ain't even close to being vanilla, this is pure, old-fashioned... Shamrock flavor?"

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought. Now don't pretend to be dumb, it's green because it's dye. Not because it's mint or key lime or Granny Smith or something ridiculous. Now, this is what you really want, right?" He twisted the cap off the thermos and tilted it in Wade's direction.

"Green beer?" Wade asked with a maniacally gleeful expression. "Perfect! Let's get not drunk enough on this probably weak-ass unnaturally colored alcohol!"

"Sounds like a plan," Peter agreed, and began transferring the food and beverages to around the Frankenstein game so they could munch while they played.

"Now wait!" Wade said, "What's in the Chinese cartons?"

Peter ripped open the cardboard and upended the contents over the Sorry board. There were dozens of fortune cookies. "Fortune cookies," Peter said, "because today is a day of luck. Rainbows and pots of gold and luck o' the Irish."

"Sure. Chinese luck o' the Irish. And, you know," Wade said as he herded his water buffalo into the blue home circle of the Sorry board, "you never explained how you got all this stuff."

Peter shrugged and moved the gazelles onto the green home circle. "You know, that's the funny bit. I didn't really do anything. I was just being Spiderman, swinging around, with your scarf on, and so many drunk St. Paddy's Day revelers yelled up at me, offering me snacks because I too was celebrating, what with the scarf and all. Obviously. It wasn't like I, a superhero, was out patrolling the streets for baddies or anything. I don't actually know." He shrugged and bit off for himself a chunk of green ham. "But I'll take it. Except for the Shamrock shakes. I waited in line for those."

"But it was the scarf's magic that got you all that free shit, eh? So I guess that means it was because of me that we got all the goodies. It was my great idea!"

Peter leaned across the board to give Wade a peck on the nose. "All your ideas are great, Wade. Thank you for the food."

Wade blushed a little, just enough to make a sweet contrast against the green of his water wings. "Oh shut up, you. You just like seeing me flustered." Peter grinned, wide, because he couldn't quite deny it. "I'm ignoring you," Wade continued, "so let's just play this game, ok?" He took a sip of his shake.

"Ok, ok," Peter said, hands raised in supplication, "we'll play the game. Pass me one of the green apple cards?"

**Author's Note:**

> Applecheesi to Sorry is a fake game, but it's very similar to a game my roommates and I made up, called Apples to Sorry. I recommend it. It's horribly complicated, takes forever to play, and is outrageously fun.


End file.
